


Thor the Fleabag

by Draco9904



Category: Fleabag (TV), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Real World, Breaking the Fourth Wall, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco9904/pseuds/Draco9904
Summary: Thor Odinson is struggling to navigate his life in New York City as a 30-something-year-old, as he juggles his dysfunctional immigrant family, the recent death of his best friend, his struggling gym business, and his complicated gay sex life.
Relationships: Peter Quill & Thor, Peter Quill/Thor, Steve Rogers/Thor
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue - He's Dead Now

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the incredible comedy-drama TV series "Fleabag" by Phoebe Waller-Bridge, this Thor/Avengers/Guardians of the Galaxy fic reimagines the MCU characters as "real-world" non-powered human characters, similar to the characters in Fleabag. There are no plans for characters from the Fleabag series to appear in the series.

I am Thor Odinson. I am blonde, hot, muscular, bearded, and single. I currently live in New York City. I used to live in Norway at birth, before moving to London as a teenager, before moving to America with my family in my 20s.

I am the son of Odin Borson Odinson and Frigga Freyrdottir. I know my father's name sounds silly but celebrities like Kris Kristofferson exist, although Odin Odinson doesn't have the same ring to it. My father Odin was a successful businessman in Norway. His business was in real estate, land development and land property. When he moved our family to London, the company's corporate management moved there too. It wasn't until later in his life that the company went through controversy over their "questionable" methods to say the least. He stepped down from the company and handed the company off to American entrepreneur Nick Fury.

I am not Odin's only child. I was the "bastard" child from a one-night stand Odin had. My family is where things get complicated.

The first and eldest sibling was Hela Odinson, Odin's first-born daughter from his first marriage that he never talks about. For a while, she was his trusted second-in-command when he was running the company. She was originally the one who was supposed to succeed him in the company. However, she was a part of the aforementioned "questionable" business methods, which would lead her to end up in prison for a few years. She eventually got released and became an artist instead, so she was no longer...dangerous. She makes a lot of abstract but otherwise successful art (some, including myself, would say her art is utterly pretentious). She was taking care of him as he was stepping down from the company. Still, even after prison, she never really nice to anyone other than Odin and Frigga. To be fair, she's not an evil stepsister. She's just a cunt.

As for Loki Laufeyson, he was adopted by Odin at the age of 2, after his parents were found dead. This was 7 years after Hela was born and 1 year before I was born. Like Hela, Loki also fought hard to make Odin proud of him. Loki even graduated with two degrees from English universities, while Hela had one degree and I was a university drop-out. Loki worked in finance for a major finance firm. Our family keeps forgetting that he's not a lawyer, though he does work with lawyers a lot as he tells us. Loki was very successful at his job and became very rich much like Odin and Hela before him. He was always a mean trickster to me growing up, and he still is a mean and uptight, but thankfully he never ended up being as shady as Hela or did anything bad enough to go to prison. We still argue and clash and all, but hey, that's sibling rivalry for you.

I was Odin and Frigga's favourite, much to Hela and Loki's dismay. I was the most kind and well-behaved child, albeit still a bit of a rascal to this day. I never did anything to end up in prison. At least, Hela had her moment before she got arrested. However, Odin was very disappointed in me when I decided to drop out of university in favour of working at the local London fitness centre with my Norwegian/English friends; Sif, Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun. The five of us always hung out together. But for Odin, I was prioritising friends over family and prosperous education. Loki soon became the favourite, even though Odin wasn't fond of his attitude. Again, he was successful and never got arrested.

Our Norweigan stepmother Frigga couldn't have any children, so she worked as a nanny for Odin when he first had Hela. By the time she was taking care of the three of us, Odin decided that his second marriage was with her. It was when I turned 5 (Loki turned 8 and Hela turned 15) when they married after a 2-year engagement. It was a wonderful occasion. Frigga was always a caring mother for all three of us, even when we'd be arguing and fighting with each other over petty things. She was the one who kept it all together. She was there for all of us from when we lived in Norway to when we lived in London. We were all heartbroken when she found out she was going to die of a terminal illness.

We all moved and immigrated to America to seek the best treatment for her illness. All the best medical scientists were in America, from our (possible lack of) understanding. We had to abandon the life and friends we did have in London. For a while, it seemed like she would be fine. But it didn't last for long. Frigga died in my late 20s. Hela had got released from prison in time for the funeral in Norway, she got arrested 3 years into our life in New York. It was a bad day for all of us. But life still had to move on. We would then commemorate the anniversary of her death every year since.

As great as my father was, he had no clue how to cope with three motherless grief-stricken children, as immigrants in America no less. Odin and Loki, and even Hela, didn't have a hard time adjusting to life in America. Because I had to abandon my friends and co-workers in London, I didn't have the luxury of being as rich as Odin, Loki and Hela. I didn't want to have to ask them for money and I was determined to make a living for myself on my own terms. To prove to them I would be fine without their luxuries. That was when I met my new best friend Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers was blonde, hot and muscular just like I was. He was not bearded or single. But he was just as much into fitness as I was since he had also been working for a fitness centre in Brooklyn. His parents were in the U.S. Army. He moved to New York in hopes of starting his own gym business. That's when I entered his life. Steve was the same age as me, and he was very _very_ American, so he was very helpful in helping me adjust to life in America. Some would say he's "too" American. He was very patriotic, thanks to his parents, and was very politically active on social media. Steve was always incredibly nice to me. Hell, to everyone he meets. He was always a kind-hearted selfless and affectionate person. No one could find a way to dislike him. Steve was always supportive and he was always there to help with anything. He was even nice enough to come with me to Norway for Frigga's funeral 4 years into our friendship. However, by far in a way, he was the most supportive of his British girlfriend Peggy Carter. Steve was always talking about how great Peggy was, and that he would be nothing without her. Peggy was an accountant who worked with Loki at his finance firm. She was feisty but also very earnest. She was a good match with Steve. The two were inseparable. It took a few years into our friendship, but our gym business "Hammer Fitness Centre" finally opened (and we would always talk about possibly changing the name). And our dreams finally came true. We finally opened a business so we could make a living doing something we loved and worked really hard on.

Steve is dead now.

Steve and I were both 32 years old, a year since we opened up the gym, when we found out that Peggy became sick. Very sick. History seemed to be repeating itself, a few years after Frigga died of her illness. Understandably, Steve did not take the news well. Peggy meant everything to him and Steve meant everything to her. Peggy would eventually die after a few months. This time, I was the one who needed to support through all of this. I had gone through it with Frigga's death. I thought I knew what I was doing to comfort Steve through his grief. I guess I did not do a good job.

Because he's dead now.

It was on Peggy's final day alive. Steve died in a car accident after his final visit to see Peggy. It wasn't a complete accident though. Steve was intending to throw himself into the street. On the previous night, he drunkenly had a one-night stand with someone while knowing that Peggy was going to die. He barely remembered the person he slept with. He felt so guilty about it that he wanted to make that person feel sorry by ending up in the hospital. Not only could he be with Peggy, but he would make the person he slept with feel bad by not allowing the person to see him. It was punishment for drunkenly sleeping with someone who was grieving his girlfriend's impending death. When he told me this, I didn't think he was serious, I thought he was just being emotional. Steve threw himself into the street, only intending to get a minor injury. He did not expect to get hit by two cyclists and by a car that was rushing by. Turns out cyclists can go just as fast as cars. It was nothing but minor, it was a major accident. Four people died that day - Steve, Peggy and the two cyclists. My best friend and his girlfriend died that day. At least they could be together in the afterlife. Loki and I attended their funeral in Brooklyn three weeks after. Their parents were devastated. They didn't just lose a son and a daughter. They lost two great friends, two lovely people, who believed in the best in all of us. They didn't deserve to die.

But they're dead now.

It's been one year since. I'm currently 33 and I'm just about to turn 34. And I'm fine. I'm totally fine, right?

Right?

This is fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I want to immediately get into the Fleabag Season 2 storylines, I have to dedicate a bit of time for the Season 1 storyline for the sake of introducing and developing the characters.
> 
> The next chapters will probably not be as heavy or depressing as this Prologue.


	2. It's Fine, Really

November, Autumn.

I have slept with plenty of guys in my adult life. More so, recently. A few women, but mostly guys. A fair share of hot guys and pretty guys. There's a distinction between hot and pretty. Both different levels of attractiveness. I'll just give a simple example. My brother Loki was pretty - groomed long hair, prominent cheekbones, clean-shaven (I don't think he could grow any facial hair), skinny but still muscled body. I, on the other hand, am the hot one - more rugged long hair, more muscular, bigger, bearded. It should be no surprise that I get asked out by plenty of guys, get plenty of booty calls, and get into plenty of one-night stands. These never lasted into any meaningful relationships. They weren't interested in me on the inside, they were interested in me on the outside. Steve was the only person who was, and he was my best friend. So, I went screw it and gave up on dating and settled with just the sex and the one-night stands. The pretty guys wanted me to suck their dicks and/or fuck them in the ass. The hot guys wanted to fuck me in the ass and/or wanted us to jerk each other off. Look, sex moves for homosexuals were limited compared to heterosexuals.

However, there was one recent anomaly. The most recent guy was named Bucky. Around the same age. He was a hot guy. Brown-haired beard, long hair too. Almost as buff as I was. Almost. Maybe about the same as Steve. I took a short shower, drank half a bottle of wine and shaved everything except my beard before I arrived at his place after his booty call. We get it going immediately. At first, it was the standard jerking off routine. But then, he wants me to fuck him in the asshole. Still, I do what he wishes. Fucking a hot guy like Bucky felt different. It takes longer to get it going. But eventually, we get the hang of it. He was thrilled. Very thrilled. I woke up the next morning and got fully dressed to leave. He woke up, still in bed, still nude, gazing at me.  
"Last night was incredible," he told me. "It was particularly special because I was usually the one going up the bum. I hadn't been a bottom before...until you. It was a bit difficult at first but you went with it."  
A bit dramatic, a bit of overstatement. But to be fair, I did have a large penis. And his thighs were thick and muscular.  
He lifts his arm to touch my hair. Guys always like touching my hair, whether it was long and flowing or tied up in a man bun for them to steer while I suck their dick. Bucky's hair touching felt earnest, more of a pretty guy thing. He was the rare in-between. As I did with the pretty guys, I gave him a gentle kiss goodbye. It was almost sort of a moving moment. He does realise that this was just a one-time thing, right?  
"Thank you," he finally told me before I left.  
And then I spent the rest of that morning wondering...

Is my dick _really_ that big or do men have _massive_ assholes?

God, I'm so lonely.

* * *

I've been on my own since Steve died. I had no one else to rely on to help me through all of this business management stuff. I was always the one dealing with the day-to-day stuff, being the one at the "reception" table, setting the gym up every day, helping out the customers, all of the small stuff. Steve handled all of the bigger stuff - financing, loans, the paperwork, the long term stuff. Being a university drop-out, I was never really that good at that kind of stuff. Because I've had to operate our gym by myself, our business was not going well. We had a decent amount of customers when we first opened Hammer Fitness Center. Our membership was reasonable for a starting business. But now it's just down to 3 people. There was Carol Danvers, she was young, blonde and was eager to make herself fit. There was also Clint Barton, the family man in his mid-40s who is trying to keep himself in good shape on a budget. And lastly, there was Sam Wilson, who I'm convinced graduated from the Will Smith Academy of African-American Charisma with all the quips he makes while working out. At least there were a few loyal customers at all. Customer loyalty is good, right?

I wasn't getting any new customers in. It was mostly because of the American memorabilia, flags, photos and decorations all over the walls. Steve hung them up there. Again, he was patriotic, and he made me promise to not take them down. Whenever potential new customers would ask about the American memorabilia, I respond with either, "It's just a theme. A quirky, pretentious theme. You know," or "It's just meant to be welcoming to you American customers since I'm not from here." Neither answer would convince them to give the fitness centre a chance. The memorabilia probably made the gym look like it is a gym for alt-right American racist misogynists, regardless of two of the loyal customers being female Carol and African-American Sam. Steve wasn't here to justify himself, or for me to convince to take down. The one decoration that I would never bring down was the photo of me and Steve when the gym was finally finished. If only Steve was here.

You know you're not doing well when you're looking to your rich older brother to help you out. Hela was certainly not going to help you out, she's a cunt as I mentioned. Me "wanting to make a living for myself on my own terms" kinda blew up in my face. And Loki was quick to tell me that. So he was not going to lend me money to bail me out of bankruptcy. But he was not a monster, so he helped understand all of the business management operations. He was basically tutoring me on business for free. He worked in finance and he did have 2 university degrees after all. I don't fully get everything, but I'm still learning and I'm getting there. I still don't quite know what "liquidation" means.

I couldn't hire people to help me out with the business because there wasn't much profit coming in, not to mention the debt. I did ask Carol, Clint and Sam, if they were interested in helping out but they were either uninterested or had other commitments, they're customers not business stakeholders. Loki told me that I needed to apply to the local bank for a Small Business Start-Up Loan (or whatever people call it in America) if I wanted to keep my business alive and financially stable before I can hire someone. Perhaps I should have asked him to come with me to the bank for the interview about the application.

* * *

Why did I have to wear a sweater? I mean, it's Autumn, but I just ran from the bus stop to get to this bank. Thank goodness, they let me into the bank manager's office for the interview before I was too late.

"Aah, you must be Thor Odinson," says the bank manager. He looks middle-aged, he's soft-spoken and not intimidating. Good.  
"Sorry, that I'm late," I tell him. "I was in a rush and I had trouble with the bus stops."  
"Well, at least you're here," he says. "I'm Phil Coulson. Thank you for coming here to discuss the Start-Up Business Loan you're applying for." Oh, thank goodness.  
"Yes, no problem," I said calmly. Frankly, I'm just distracted by how sweaty and hot I am after running to the bank after getting off the bus too early.

"I have read your application document," Phil says. "I thought it was pretty funny."  
"I'm not sure what about it is funny but okay-"  
"Great. As you were probably aware while you were choosing this bank that we haven't had a chance to support many...businesses led by women, people of colour or immigrants since uh-"  
"The bank's harassment case." Why did I mention that?  
"Yes...that...scandal," Phil says nervously. "Are you okay?" He notices that I'm sweating and making quick breaths.  
"Sorry, I got off the bus too early and I had to run all the way here, so I'm quite toasty."  
"Do you want water?"  
"No, uhh - wait, yes, water would be nice-"  
"Alright, it says here that you started your gym business 3 years ago," he resumes back to the application and does nothing about the water. "We don't usually consider applications from up-and-running businesses, but given that this is an interesting...immigrant-led business, we're willing to make an exception. You are _Thor Odinson_ , right? Son of _Odin Odinson_?"  
"Yes, Phil, I just wanted to get my own business running on my own terms, without relying on my father's money," I tell him.  
"Well, that's good for us," Phil continues.

God, I'm heating up under this sweater. I want to pay attention, but Christ, this sweater. If I had known that I would be running to the bank then I wouldn't be wearing it.  
"It says here, Mister Odinson, that you started your business with a partner named Steve Rogers," he says.  
"Aah, yes, Steve. He, unfortunately...died...in a car accident 2 years ago," I tell him. Wait, why am I telling him this? "So I'm left alone to run this fitness centre. He was a good man."  
It's a bit awkward after such a big buzzkill moment, of my own doing no less. "I see," Phil resumes. "So there are a couple of details that need to be..."  
Well, that didn't help with the sweating.

Screw it. I proceed to take off this damn sweater, pulling it over the top of my head. Wait...shit...I'm not wearing anything else underneath. I forgot I wasn't wearing a top or anything. I quickly pull the sweater back down. I wasn't very discrete because Phil was just looking at me. From his stern-looking face, he's telling me that he is happily married to a wife and has two kids, dude. Shit. He thinks I'm trying to make a move on him by showing him my abs so I can get the loan. Double shit!  
  
"Okay," Phil says sternly. "I'm sorry, but that kind of behaviour won't get you very far here."  
"Oh, no, I'm sorry," I try to explain. "I just forgot I wasn't wearing a top underneath."  
"Okay but-"  
"I'm sorry. This was a genuine accident."  
"With our bank's history, I can see why you might have thought-"  
"No, I was just really hot and sweating. That's all."  
"I take all of this very seriously, Mister Odinson."  
"I'm not trying to sleep with you. I mean, look at yourself." Oh, fuck. I did not just say that to him. Clearly from his stern stare and lack of immediate response, I just pissed him off hard.  
"Alright. Please leave." He finally tells me.  
"Wait, no, please. You don't understand. I _really need_ this loan-"  
"Please just leave."

Of course, you had to fuck up this important interview, Thor. Well, there's no fixing it now. I get up and start to leave through the office door.

"Pervert," I whisper.  
"Slut," I hear him whisper.  
"Wow," I call him out.  
"Please just leave."  
"No, you please just leave."  
"This is my office."  
"Right." I finally leave.

God, you're so stupid, Thor. Just when you couldn't make things worse.


	3. The Ends of Pencils

Today was the day we commemorated the anniversary of our mother Frigga's death. The one day where our dysfunctional immigrant family all came together. Ironically, this day was close to the American holiday of Thanksgiving, a holiday we probably would never celebrate. Because of Frigga's death anniversary, and also because we didn't want to. Every year we would gather at my father Odin's American house in near New York City, where we would have a big lunch together and take turns privately talking to Frigga's ashes (in a cremation urn, of course - we're not morbid savages). Well, it was Odin and Hela's house where she would also make her abstract artworks. Artworks that somehow won awards, hang up in art galleries, as well as hang up in Odin and Hela's house. It was nice, however, that the two saw the appreciation in inner-city suburban life rather than be in the busy never-sleeping New York City. For that, I was happy for them. Not so much that Odin and Hela had a "mended" relationship since the two left Odin's company. Well, Nick Fury's company now, which seems to be doing well enough without my father's oversight.

Loki would always drive me to their house. I didn't have a car and didn't bother to take any driving lessons. These were American cars where the steering wheel was on the left, not on the right like British cars do. Also, Loki was rich enough to own a car in the first place. The only money that Loki or Odin would lend to me was for public transport which I mostly used to get around in NYC. I have gotten used to taking taxis, buses and the subway, though I have not gotten used to the occasional weird looks I get on the public transport. Perhaps it was because of how hot I was, or how intimidatingly tall and muscular I was, or maybe it was just the hair (long and flowing or tied up in a man bun). I think it was the hair. Most of the times when we drove to the Odinson house, we were silent and just listened to the radio on the way there. This time? Well...

"So did the interview go well?" Loki asked.  
All I could respond with was, "Um...well..."  
"My God, you screwed it up, didn't you?"  
"Sorry, I just don't want to talk about it."  
"Thor, what did you do? What did you say?"  
"I said I don't want to talk about it."  
"Thor, do you want my help or not?"  
"Well, I kind of...ended up insulting the bank manager who was interviewing me."  
"Jesus Christ."  
"I didn't mean to. It just came out of my mouth."  
"Well, I can't help you with that mouth of yours, can I?"  
"Just tell me what to do, Loki. What can I do about my business now?"  
"There's nothing else you can do now, you screwed up the interview and the bank manager probably doesn't want to see you again."  
"I know that, Loki!"  
"Well, now you know that your business is now in the early stages of bankruptcy."  
"Fucking hell. I fucked Hammer Fitness Centre into bankruptcy."  
"Jesus, that's still the name of your gym?"  
"Well, I have three loyal customers for a reason, Loki. Looks like they'll have to find somewhere else to work out."  
"Because of your mistakes as a businessman, Thor."

That's it, Hammer Fitness Centre is now going to become bankrupt and close down within the next week or so, maybe within the next few days. Sorry, Steve, I've let you down. Steve was never the person who would give up on a goal or a person easily. He was the most resilient and forgiving person I had ever met.

One time I told him about a news story in which a little kid was put into juvenile prison for jamming a pencil into the school hamster's anus, stabbing it through and poking the hamster's eyes out. It's a very upsetting image to think about. Steve thought the punishment for the kid was too harsh. He kind of felt sorry for the kid, knowing that the kid probably had problems.  
At one point during our debate over the kid, Steve said, "And that is why we have erasers at the ends of pencils."  
I didn't understand what he was saying. "What? So you can jam it through a hamster?" I rebut him.  
He laughed and replied, "No. It's because people make mistakes."  
It was a nice sentiment and all, but I wish all the mistakes I made could be that easily erasable and fixable.

"What about you, Loki? Anything happened to you recently?"  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
"Loki, what is it? Is something wrong?"  
"I said I don't want to talk about it. Just fuck off, I'm fine."  
"Okay then. Sorry."

Jesus.

* * *

We finally made it to the Odinson house. Hela had already prepared the annual lunch for us. It was always awkward between the three of us. The three Odinson children. But this day was for once a day where we wouldn't create a toxic family environment. Ideally, at least. There was often at least one awkward moment, but everything would go smoothly. It was a day where we all united over our love of our mother after all. It wouldn't be right to create any hostility of any kind on this occasion. It's not what Frigga wanted from any of us. Hela would always make whatever she felt like for the annual lunch, but she would always make our mother's favourite dish, the roast turkey. Again, ironic, considering this was so close to Thanksgiving which we never celebrated. I guess this was our unorthodox way of celebrating Thanksgiving, by giving thanks to our late mother.

We gathered around the roundtable for our lunch. It's quiet, as it should be.

"It's always so nice for all of you to come back together again for this occasion," Odin started the conversation. "Frigga would be so proud."  
"Yes, she would be," says Loki, trying her best to not sound sarcastic, following recent news of my business becoming bankrupt.  
"She would always support us, no matter what," I chime in. A subtle response to Loki's reply.  
"Gosh, the turkey turned out really great this year," Odin complimented Hela.  
"Yes, very very much," Hela agreed...with herself. "You're welcome, father."

I'm sensing that this year something was up. The silence felt intense this year, rather than respectful.

"So, father, what have you been up to recently?" I ask.  
"Why thank you for asking, Thor. Because I finally and officially retired," he responds.  
"Wow, it's been a long time coming, isn't it?" Loki says.  
"Right, since he left the company," Hela chimes in. "And you're not getting any older, father."  
"Right," Odin continued. "And I'm actually also thinking about moving back to Norway for my retirement."  
"That sounds nice, father," I tell him."  
"It'll be nice for me to return home since it's been so long," Odin smiles. "It'll also be nice if one, if not all of you, can come along."  
"We would love to if we could, father," Hela tells him. "But I think we've all have careers here in America and we have gotten used to life here."  
"I understand," Odin says. "I don't have any plans yet, it was just a consideration."

Loki turns his eyes at me. I'm pretty sure that he wants me to do something but I'm not quite sure what. Does he want me to tell him that I can come with him because my business is failing? I don't think this is the best time for that.

"Speaking of which, Hela, how's your art going?" I politely resume the conversation.  
"Huh, never thought you'd be interested but okay," she starts. "So if you must know, I will be throwing a major art exhibition on Monday after Thanksgiving."  
"Aah, so you're showing your new works," Odin says.  
"Precisely, as well as all my award-winning works," she boasts. "Father is coming. And my new boyfriend is also going to be there. He hasn't seen a lot of my work yet."  
"Wait, you're dating someone?" I ask her.  
"Yes. Why would you want to know?" she replies.  
"I mean, it is quite the surprise," Loki tells her.  
"Well, you two have your lives, I have mine," she responds. "But I do hope that my two brothers can make it."  
"I'm not quite sure about that," Loki responds.  
"Why do you say that, Loki?" I ask him, really wondering what's going on with him today.  
"Yes, are why do you say that, Loki?" Hela asks.  
"I don't want to talk about it," he says. "Today is about mother, not me."  
"No, we have time to talk about this, Loki," Odin tells him. "Your mother would want you to talk."  
"Fine," he's finally telling us. "I'm getting a promotion at the finance company. And that promotion involves me going back to London for a while."  
"Oh my God, congratulations, brother," I smile.  
"Wait, I thought you were a lawyer," Hela tells him.  
"Why do I keep having to repeat this? I'm not a lawyer. I just work with lawyers," he responds to her.  
"So when are you going?" Odin asks him.  
"I'm not going to London. I'm turning the promotion down," he replies.  
"Wait, what? Why are you turning it down?" I question him.  
"Yes. Isn't this a good opportunity for you?" Hela further questions.  
"It is but I'm not leaving my family behind," he says.  
"Wait, so do you want the promotion or not?" Odin questions him.  
"It doesn't matter, father," Loki claps back.  
"If this promotion is clearly what you want then you really should take it," Hela tells him. It's really saying something when Hela, of all people, is being supportive of someone other than father.  
"Mother would want you to chase your dreams, right," I assure him. "She would want you to be happy. She would want you to do what you want."  
"Don't bring mother into this," Loki shouts sternly. "Don't assume you know what she would want, and don't assume you know what I want."

The table was left speechless by Loki's sudden outburst. Frankly, we all, including myself, thought that I would be the one to make a scene at the anniversary lunch. But we did not expect it to be Loki, who was probably the calmest of the three Odinson children. Perhaps he had his own mistakes that he needed to erase.

"Then what do you want, Loki?" I ask calmly.  
Loki paused, and then, "I'm finishing this turkey and I'm going to talk to mother's ashes first and go home."  
We were not satisfied with Loki's answer but we had no further objections.  
"Thor, finish up quickly so I can go home," he uttered.  
Even Odin started to feel uncomfortable today.

It was unfortunate that this anniversary had to be cut short, but if it had lasted any longer then it might have turned into a bloodbath. It was a shame since Hela's turkey was really good this year. I'm sure Frigga is having mixed feelings about how today went down. If only she was here. We did take turns talking to her ashes. Loki was first, as he told us, then Hela, then me. I'm not going to tell _you_ about what I told to her ashes. It's private. I'm not going to share it. Not even with you.

It was a rushed goodbye to Odin and Hela. But again, if we had stayed any longer then it would have become a massacre.

* * *

The drive home with Loki was very tense. Again, the silence. But I had to know...

"What the hell was all that about, Loki?" I ask him.  
Loki finally let out a huge sigh. "All I wanted was to impress father. All I wanted was for him to be proud of me. I'm not his biological son. Even though you're a...bastard son...Thor, you're still his biological son, much like Hela. He always preferred either of you too. It's why I was determined to become as successful as I am now. But sometimes I feel like I've failed."  
"Uhh..."  
"Thor, if you mention my high income, I will crash this car."  
"Look, Loki. Of course, our father is proud of you. He always wanted the best for all of us."  
"Well, it never felt like he loved all three of us equally. It's almost as if he was making us compete against each other to become the favourite."  
"I get it, brother. I'm clearly failing right now."  
"I didn't want to abandon Odin, but this business trip to London with this promotion...I just needed a break for all of it. Returning to our old home in London. I was looking forward to it. But I couldn't leave Odin behind."  
"He clearly wants you to go to London. He wants you to be happy. He understands. Don't worry about him anymore. He knows it's what you want. Mother knows it's what you want. Accept the promotion, Loki. You know you want it."  
Loki sighed out again and smiled. "I'm going to accept the promotion. I'm going to London. Thank you, Thor."  
"We're brothers. We're family. We have to support each other, Loki. And make each other happy."  
"You know what, Thor? I know I'm going to regret doing this, and I know you've insisted on building up your business on your own terms but...I'm going to give you money for your gym."  
"Wait...what? Are you serious, Loki?"  
"You need the money. I'm giving you enough to keep your gym alive, as long as you don't fuck things up further. Promise me. No one else can know."  
"Oh my God, of course, brother."  
"I know I haven't been the nicest brother to you. But you said so yourself, we have to support each other. It's what brothers do, right?"  
"Yes...Thank you, Loki. I always hoped that we could truly be good brothers again."  
"Don't get too excited, Thor. We're not friends, we're brothers. Go and make your own new friends."

That was a harsh way to end the conversation. But still, the two of us smiled for the rest of the drive home. Today was a good day after all. We still have to go to Hela's stupid art exhibition. But at least, we fixed something.


	4. It Wasn't My Fault

Honestly, I wish I could skip Hela's art exhibition. But I promised Hela and Odin that I would come and stay for the whole day. And by "whole day", I mean 2 pm to 11 pm. I did not want to spend most of my day just standing around looking at Hela's artworks. I had no business being here anyway with most of the attendees being art enthusiasts and critics, including the ones who awarded some of her artworks. Luckily for me, no one was dressed in tuxedos or gowns. Everyone was wearing casual but professional clothing. My clothes looked casual but professional enough. Admittedly, some of her artworks were pretty good and unpretentious. My personal favourites were the ones inspired by Norse mythology, seeing as our family has a weird connection and obsession with Norse mythology, considering our first names. Hela has talent, that I can admit. I was _starting_ to understand how she was winning awards for her works. However, her admittedly well-made giant painting of hell-like imagery honestly raised a lot of red flags. I honestly don't get how anyone could be here for more than 6 hours. I pity the bar workers, caterers and staff workers who had to be here.

Hela was subtle in how she treated me like shit this time around. I guess that was because this was a public event where people respected her. My father included, despite him knowing of our toxic sibling relationships first-hand. Firstly, she made me one of her staff when I arrived at the exhibition. Hela and Odin greeted me before she handed me a tray of wine glasses and put a sticker on me saying "Here to help". That's right, I ended up having to work as her slave for the day. Odin didn't do anything about it. I don't think he picked up on Hela's passive-aggressiveness. I guess he was just old and retired, so he wouldn't need or have to do anything. Secondly, her introductory speech about her exhibition and her artworks ended with a subtle burn at me. After an otherwise touching speech about how she was glad that people were here for apparently her "final" exhibition, at least in America, she explained the main purpose of this last exhibition was, and I quote,

"...not just about celebrating my life's work. But about celebrating the power that every one of us has, to create and to express ourselves the way we want to. And that, at the end of the day, is what today's showcase is _really_ about...it's about power."

Power...that's what it was always about.  
Power over me. Power over Loki. Perhaps even power over Odin. Although with him, it was approval from Odin more so than power over him, much like with Loki.  
Speaking of which, Loki hadn't arrived at the exhibition yet. That left me completely alone here, just spending more time looking at Hela's art. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to survive this exhibition for another few hours.

I was finally introduced to Hela's boyfriend Skurge. He was also from Norway, much to Odin's approval. Skurge was big and tough-looking. Not as much as yours truly, but still big and tough-looking enough to earn my attention. Skurge was a security guard Hela met while he was looking after her previous exhibition appearance. Turns out, they had been dating for almost a year. Skurge was the kind of guy who would always want his lady to happy, despite the rough exterior. Always concerned with satisfying whatever Hela wants. From what I could gather, for the most part, he liked what she liked and he does what she tells him to do. Doesn't sound like much of a healthy relationship to me but the two of them seemed "happy" enough. Whenever he wasn't worshipping Hela though, Skurge was admittedly obnoxious. Whenever he wasn't busy trying to please Hela, he was one of those guys who would make inappropriate jokes and comments, and then excuse himself by saying "It was all just in good fun." I've never seen Hela laugh sincerely at someone's jokes, but I can now say that she found Skurge to be funny. Perhaps they are meant for each other. They were both assholes.

Hours passed and Loki still hadn't arrived yet. One person I did run into was Bucky. Several days after our one-night stand. Never thought he'd be the kind who would go to an art exhibition like this one. He was one of those "hot guys" after all. But here we are. We had a brief chat. Apparently, sleeping with me somehow made him realise that he was in love with someone else. I wasn't sure how that happened, but it did. I never saw him again after this.

It was 6 pm when I left the exhibition to go out for dinner, all by myself. I left under Odin and Hela's condition that I come back immediately after I was done. I settled with having a steak after spending the afternoon at a "classy" event for "classy" people. And I relished that damn steak. And it was...so...good. This may not be good for my body or diet. But I let me have this one...

* * *

It's night-time at 8 pm, I arrive back from my dinner to see that there was still plenty of people at the exhibition. Really? This is how these people are spending the night. Luckily, Loki had just finally arrived at the exhibition.  
"Loki, where were you?" I ask him. "I was waiting all day for you."  
"Where did you think I was? I was at work."  
"Well, you could have told us."  
"I work for a big finance firm. Of course, I would be working until the evening. Also, I had dinner with my colleagues just before coming here."  
"You could have answered my calls though."  
"I never answer calls at work unless it's work-related. I don't want to be rude to my colleagues or clients."  
"Fair enough." Well, not really. "So about Hela's art..."  
"I was expecting some of her art to be worse but...I have to say, I'm impressed."  
"I know right? She has quite the talent."  
"I mean...not enough to make up for her bitchiness."

Every attendee gathered around Hela for her final speech of the night. One final speech to boost her ego.  
"It has been such a pleasure, having you all here. Thank you, everyone, for attending my final art exhibition...Well, at least here in America..."  
Where is this going?  
"...Some of you may know that my precious family comes from Norway. And I think it's time for me to return home. To finally go back and rediscover my roots..."  
So this means she's finally leaving us? For good?  
"...I don't currently have any plans to move back for another few months. Perhaps, maybe next year..."  
Goddamnit.  
"...Luckily for me, I won't be alone. I have a very special someone here in attendance who is also from Norway..."  
Ugh. Hela talking about love just seems wrong and unnatural.  
"...And my father Odin, who's also here in attendance, has informed me that he also has plans to move back to Norway for his retirement..."  
Wait, what? I turn to Loki and his jaw has dropped just like mine has.  
"...Again, no concrete plans yet..."  
Was Odin actually considering going with Hela back to Norway? Leaving me and Loki here in America? He never told us about this.  
Hela ended her speech with a final overlong and stretched out thank you to her "dedicated fans and followers," to which everyone clapped over. Hela really was a puppet master in control.

Loki and I went over to Odin to discuss the matter in private, away from Hela. He once again reiterated that he has plans but no immediate plans. He didn't tell us about it or invite us because he thought we were fine here in America. He didn't want to force us to go as a family if we didn't want to. To be fair, Loki and I didn't have any incentive to go back. Our memories of living in Norway were so distant in the back of our minds, unlike Odin and Hela's. Still, the idea of Odin and Hela going off together still made me feel uneasy and suspicious. Odin wasn't convinced that anything was wrong. This was when Loki decided to finally tell Odin about his England promotion.

Hela took me away, just to make me do more staff work, carrying more wine glasses around on more trays. I grew more tired and pissed about Hela's effortless control. It was to the point where I started drinking the wine glasses myself. Enough wine glasses to get myself drunk by 9:30 pm.  
It was at that time when Hela called me for more wine for her and Odin. She snapped her fingers at me from afar, rather than go up to me and get it herself. She was the star of the show after all. Instead of going up to her and give her the wine, I take one wine glass from the tray I'm carrying, lift the glass in the air, and drop it onto the floor. That caught everyone's attention, including Hela, Odin and Loki, as everyone nearby shifted their bodies and eyes towards me - some rude drunk staff member making a scene. I give Hela a drunkenly smug smile. I grab another wine glass.  
"Don't," Odin tells and signals me. I lift the glass in the air.  
"Don't", Odin's voice grew slightly louder. I didn't drop the wine glass.  
I dropped the entire tray onto the floor, smashing the rest of the glasses before I drink from the wine glass in my hand, and then drop that glass. Now that was a scene to behold.  
"Sorry, everyone. The joys of having drunk staff," Hela assured the guests with laughter, as she and Odin sternly and quickly came towards me.  
"Thor, stop making a spectacle of yourself and clean that up," Odin demands me.  
I drunkenly smile and say to him, "No, _you_ clean it up," pushing him.  
"Apologise!" he demands.  
"I'm sorry...turns out I really am the bastard child," I respond, still semi-drunk.  
Hela frowned "sadly" as if my scene completely ruined the exhibition.  
"Oh, fuck off," I say to her loudly.  
"I've just got to say this once, Thor," Odin became serious and furious. "I deserve to be happy. I am allowed to move on. I have a good life, and I am happy, alright? Alright? Now if you don't mind, I'd like to speak with your brother in private."  
Loki looked at me nervously as Odin took him away in private. I look back at Hela.  
"I'm sorry you had to hear that," she tells me. "But you did have to hear it."  
Another staff member comes over to clean up the mess with towels and a tray.  
"No, no," she told the staff member. " _He'll_ do it."

* * *

15 minutes pass. I've cleaned up my mess. I've disposed of the mess in the staff room. My drunkenness was starting to go away. I was able to think clearly. Loki came in with a stern look on his face. He meant business and didn't want to take any bullshit from me.  
"Thor, what the fuck was that?" he questioned me. "I thought you were done humiliating yourself."  
"Loki, what did father say to you?"  
Loki didn't respond.  
"Did he tell you to not take the promotion?" I ask him, concerned.  
"No. I'm still going to England."  
"Oh, so it's all good then."  
"No. It's still not all good."  
"What do you mean, brother?"  
Loki took a deep breath. "I'm not giving you the money for your Fitness Centre."  
It took me a second for the shock to sink it. "What?"  
"I told him about how your business was failing earlier. And now after what you just did, he doesn't want me to give you money."  
"No, no. How could he do this?"  
"How could he not? You just made a drunk scene in front of a group of guests. He thinks you're irresponsible and unreliable."  
"And you couldn't convince him?"  
"Well, I couldn't disagree with him."  
"What? Loki, how could you do this?"  
"You did this to yourself, Thor. You're always screwing things up, for yourself, for others."  
"No, fuck you, Loki. That's not true. I don't screw things up."  
He shook his head. "Thor, please don't. You're always the one making a mess."  
"No, Loki. This is just Hela trying to mess with us."  
"Hela has nothing to do with this. It's just you. And you have to deal with the consequences."  
"I can be responsible. I need the money. Hela's trying to get to us. I just need you to trust me."  
"I don't want to hear it. You have to look at things from a point of view that isn't yours"  
"Loki, you have to believe me!"  
"How can I believe you?"  
"Because you know, deep down, I'm a good person!"  
"After what you did to Steve?!"  
I become silent. Speechless. I couldn't say anything. Especially about Steve...  
"I'm sorry, Thor. I can't help you anymore."

What did I do to Steve? Nothing. Nothing happened...I swear...

Nothing bad happened...We were just having fun...That's all...

We were both drunk...We didn't mean for things to happen...

We both enjoyed our night together...We both wanted it...We...wanted it...

He didn't even remember doing it...or that it was me...

It's not my fault...

"I slept with someone...I think I slept with someone last night," Steve said to me on the day he died.

I told him it wasn't a big deal because he was drunk...

"No, no, it is a big deal," he cried out. "Peggy is dying and I betrayed her...It's my fault I got drunk..."

He couldn't forgive himself for what he did...I told him it wasn't his fault...

"I'm gonna hurt myself, I'm gonna throw myself into the driveway and get hit by one of those cyclists who pass here."

I told him he couldn't be serious...

"I'm gonna hurt myself and end up in the hospital...Then I can be Peggy...Then the person who drunkenly fucked with me can feel sorry for what they did..."

I'm sorry, Steve...It was me...I'm so sorry, Steve...

You died becuase of me...

It's all my fault...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the depressing end. The Season 1 will come to a close in the next chapter, then we can get into the Season 2 stuff.
> 
> It will be long a wait for the next chapter though since I will shortly be resuming my university studies, not to mention my other main fic.
> 
> Stay subscribed. Be patient. I promise it'll be worth the long wait.


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